


How fitting that the man who studies cryptids...is himself a cryptid

by JerusalemStrayCat



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Relativity Falls, Alternate Universe of an Alternate Universe, Dipper just needs to get out more, Dipper never went through the portal, Kinda, Late Night Conversations, Nobody went through the portal, Sibling Bonding, oh well, perhaps not as fluffy as I would have liked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:29:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24921589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JerusalemStrayCat/pseuds/JerusalemStrayCat
Summary: Also, Dipper's not missing, he's just busy and baffled by the fact that the Stans consider him this big mystery. We get a montage of him in the background of shots like, eating pop-tarts."What do you mean you've 'never met me'? We went fishing together!" "Dipper, you got distracted by algae and spent the rest of the day diving for samples"- Tumblr user @radiant-stormblessed, 5/12/2020Inspired by an AU idea by my friend quoted above. AU of an AU where all the Pines are perfectly fine, they just need to spend more time together. Set around The Time Traveler's Pig.
Relationships: Dipper Pines & Mabel Pines
Comments: 1
Kudos: 62





	How fitting that the man who studies cryptids...is himself a cryptid

Mabel Pines awoke to a scraping sound from the gift shop. Had she fallen asleep in front of the television again? That sleazy Gleeful kid was taking a toll on her health, even more than her eccentric brother usually did.

“Dipper?” she mumbled, not bothering to open her eyes.

There was no response, except for footsteps that were clearly trying very hard not to be heard.

“Dipper, it’s the middle of the night. What are you doing up?”

The footsteps continued, becoming muffled as they reached the carpeting of the living room. “It’s not the middle of the night, it’s almost five in the morning according to my clock,” said a man’s voice to her right.

Mabel cracked her eyes open. The museum was dark, but the living room was dimly illuminated by the television and the aquarium. To her right was a vaguely human-shaped silhouette, trying and failing to slip behind Mabel’s chair unnoticed.

“That does not answer my question,” Mabel said. “Why are you up at five in the morning?”

“Making coffee,” said the silhouette, having reached the kitchen.

“Dipper.”

“Mabel.”

Mabel, now awake enough to move, eased herself out of her chair. She followed her brother into the kitchen and turned on the lights. Dipper Pines, sunken-eyed, unshaven, and still wearing his raincoat, blinked in the sudden brightness.

“Uh. Do you want some coffee too?” he said at length. “We still have some edible glitter.”

“Might as well, since I’m not going back to sleep anytime soon.”

Minutes passed in silence as the coffee brewed. Dipper took out a pair of mugs - a blue one with a physics joke on it for himself, a magenta one with polka dots for Mabel - and poured some coffee for each of them.

“I feel like the kids don’t like me much,” Dipper said suddenly.

“Sure they do,” Mabel assured him between sips. “You’re their great uncle. They love you. Ford especially.”

“The one with the jacket and glasses?” 

Mabel nodded. “Have you noticed the way he follows you around like a puppy? He’s been dying to spend time with you ever since he found your old journals. He practically idolizes you.”

“Even after reading about all my spectacular embarrassments?”

“Yup.”

“The manotaur incident of ‘93?”

“Mhm.”

“Our mercifully brief encounter with the evil corn chip?”

“Especially that.” Seeing the look on Dipper's face, Mabel added, "I made sure to let them know what a bastard he was so they understand he's not worth investigating."

Dipper imagined what kind of horror stories she had told the younger twins, which probably only stoked their curiosity. “How many of the journals did they read on that one afternoon?” he asked, not sure if he was dreading the answer.

“At least the first eight. Stanley had just taken out the ninth when I noticed they had gotten into the study.”

Dipper whistled. “Not bad. I wish I could read that fast. But why do they talk about the ‘Author of the Journals’ as if he’s some great mystery? They know I wrote them.”

“Because he is a mystery!” Mabel reached out to poke Dipper, who swatted her hand away. “ _You_ are a mystery. The boys have hardly met you this whole summer, because you never leave the basement!”

“I have work to do,” Dipper huffed. “Besides, I did go fishing with them a few weeks ago.”

“You got distracted by the algae and spent the whole trip diving for samples.”

“I went with them to Bud Gleeful’s show...”

“Which you left in a huff after ten minutes!”

“I helped them uncover the Northwest conspiracy!”

“Fine, you helped them uncover the Northwest conspiracy.” Mabel drained her mug. “That may have been the longest amount of time you’ve spent with the kids. Now you listen to me. The fair is this week. It’s going to be a beautiful sunny day, and you’re going to be outside enjoying it with your family, not holed up in your little science nest.”

~

Dipper spent most of the day of the fair holed up in his little science nest.

(He was planning on going out to the fair, honest. But then some interesting and potentially dangerous anomalies in the space-time continuum started popping up, and, well.)

~

That afternoon, Stan and Ford Pines burst into the house like a hurricane, causing Dipper to nearly choke on the Pop-tart he was eating. This was not an unusual occurrence. What was unusual was the companion they brought with them - not a human, nor any strange creature from the woods, but an ordinary shaggy brown goat with a broken horn.

“His name is Gompers,” Stan announced.

“After the labor union leader,” Ford added, glaring pointedly at Mabel, who was squeezing the water from the dunk tank out of her graying curls and into the kitchen sink.

Mabel only laughed. “If you want to negotiate terms with me, you need only ask,” she said. “Did one of you win him at the fair?”

"We both won him. Long story."

“It was a team effort. Gompers, no!" Stan yanked Gompers away from the bookshelf he was nosing.

“I see. Well, Gompers can live in the yard with Waddles for now. I'm sure they'd get along great. He can’t stay in the house, but only because your Grunkle Dipper will go ballistic if any of his research gets eaten.”

“Speaking of Grunkle Dipper, what's his deal?” Ford asked. "I thought he was going to come to the fair, but we haven’t seen him all day."

"Not a surprise," Stan said, rolling his eyes. "He's always busy with his nerdy research. NO, Gompers!"

At the mention of his name, Dipper grabbed another Pop-tart and made a move to escape back to the basement before his sister or nephews noticed.

“I’m actually on my way upstairs to dry off properly,” Mabel said, probably more loudly than necessary. “Why don’t you two ask Grunkle Dipper himself about it? He tried to explain it to me, but it was all cosmic mumbo jumbo that seemed more up your alley than mine.”

Dipper, already halfway to the gift shop, stopped in his tracks and glanced behind him. Stan was still trying to wrestle Gompers away from the bookshelf, but Ford was looking at him expectantly with shining eyes.

“But -” Dipper began to protest, but then thought better of it. The space-time continuum could wait.

~

Two hours later, Mabel woke from her well-deserved nap and went to check on her family. Dipper was sitting in the armchair, Stan and Ford on either side of him. The conversation had shifted to a heated three-way debate on whether sheep were “structurally sound” (whatever that means). Gompers was gnawing on the armrest, under the boys' watchful eyes. Mabel smiled and went back upstairs.

**Author's Note:**

> I could see this becoming an actual AU.


End file.
